Mix 'N Match (No Match for Love) (21 page)

What had Mitch done to piss off karma so badly that he deserved this? For months, he had fretted and stewed and obsessed over that kiss with Zoey. He had wondered what he’d done wrong, what was wrong with her, why he was attracted to someone so obviously bad for him. And now—when he was just starting to get answers to those questions, and to realize he’d misjudged the entire situation—Alan had to go and ruin everything.

Zoey’s eyes met Mitch’s, full of confusion and accusation where a moment before there had been vulnerability and desire.

“It’s all part of the plan, right?” she whispered, smiling. But he saw the hurt behind it.

Whatever Mitch had done to anger karma, Alan had just done it a thousand times worse.

“I didn’t know he was here.” Mitch reached out to pull her toward him, but she took a step back.

“Sure.”

The camera flashed again. Mitch closed his eyes, his heart racing. He and Zoey needed to finish the conversation they’d barely started. But now was not the time.

They had to convince Alan he and Zoey were about to get married. And then they had to find out how Alan was tracking them.

“Later,” Mitch said. He let his gaze slide to Alan, hoping she’d get the message.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m a great actress.”

Desperation clawed at his throat. “I wasn’t acting.”

Another camera flash. Zoey flicked one last glance in Mitch’s direction, then marched over to Alan. Mitch followed close on her heels, kicking himself for not taking the initiative and approaching the sleezeball first.

“You are seriously a messed up person,” Zoey said, pointing a finger in Alan’s face. “Why can’t you leave us alone? We’re trying to enjoy Paris together, and you. Are. Ruining. Everything.”

Usually Mitch wasn’t a fan of hyperbole, but this time, Zoey was right on point.

“I’m waiting for you to slip up,” Alan said. “I’m waiting for the crack in your story. I’m waiting for you to lead me right to Brooke and Luke, and those fifty-thousand-dollar wedding photos that are going to make my career.”

“You’re wasting your time and money,” Mitch said. “No one will pay fifty thousand dollars to see photos of Zoey and I eloping.”

“It’s a good thing that’s not what I’ll be getting photos of, then.”

“Stay away from us, Alan.” Zoey’s voice shook with fury, and maybe a tinge of fear. “Next time, I’m calling the police.”

Alan smirked. “You can try and scare me all you want, but it’s not going to work. I’m seeing this through to the very end.”

Zoey flexed her fingers, and for a moment, Mitch thought she might slap Alan. He had half a mind to let her. But instead she straightened her shoulders and grabbed Mitch’s hand. Her palm was warm, her grip tight with tension. He gave her a reassuring squeeze, but she either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

“Let’s go,” she said and yanked him toward the group waiting for the elevator. The click of the camera shutter followed them the entire way.

Alan wasn’t trying to get photos of Brooke and Luke’s wedding—he was trying to ruin Mitch’s life.

The elevator doors slid open, and they forced their way onto the platform with the rest of the crowd. As soon as the doors shut, Zoey dropped his hand. Mitch’s head spun with the complexities and nuances of the last ten minutes. He didn’t know what was real and what was for show anymore.

It was all starting to feel real to him.

The elevator opened, and they stepped outside. Mitch wanted to reach for Zoey’s hand again. But she folded her arms across her stomach, a clear
back off
signal. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms as though chilled by the night air. Mitch wished his jacket wasn’t still damp from the rain so he could offer it to her.

Mitch glanced behind him. The sun had set, and the Eiffel Tower was now a glowing beacon. But he could still make out Alan’s figure and the silhouette of a camera in the twilight.

Alan probably didn’t expect to find anything out tonight. He was just trying to unnerve them.

“He’s still following us,” Mitch said.

“I know.” Zoey shook her head. Were those tears glistening in her eyes? “Why can’t he leave us alone? What a piranha.”

“We have to figure out how he’s following us.” The wedding was only days away.

“I’m out of ideas. He shows up everywhere, and there’s no rhyme or reason to it.”

“Let’s at least try and lose him before going home.”

“What do you have in mind?”

Mitch’s mind flashed back to their kiss, and how much he wouldn’t mind experiencing that again. They really needed to talk about what had happened. He hadn’t been playacting for Alan.

But had Zoey?

“I hear the river boat cruises on the Seine are a must-see and are gorgeous at night,” Mitch said. “Hopefully he’ll get bored and go back to whatever hole he crawled out of.”

“Okay. Let’s go.”

Mitch let his shoulder brush up against hers as they walked in silence, and he kept his hands down at his sides. But Zoey kept her arms firmly folded and her hands out of reach.

Was she regretting their kiss—again?

He heard the click of a shutter and glanced over his shoulder. Alan still followed from half a block back.

Dealing with Zoey would have to come later. For now, they had to figure out how Alan was following them.

“He can’t be tracking us through Lianna,” Mitch said. “No one knew we were going to the Eiffel Tower tonight.”

“I don’t think it can be anyone at Toujour,” Zoey said. “He showed up at the Arc de Triomphe, too, and I only texted Brooke that information. She always has her phone on hand. The chances of someone stealing it, going through her texts, and alerting Alan in such a tight time frame are slim.”

“But her office isn’t bugged. None of our phones are bugged.”

“So what, he bugged one of us?”

“Are you sure he didn’t somehow get to your purse at the charity gala?”

Zoey sent him a scathing glare. “It’s just as likely he bugged you. I didn’t even bring that purse to Paris, and I’ve gone through all the contents at least three times and nothing suspicious showed up.”

“Still, I’d feel better if we had the private security firm go through our things.”

“Fine.” She spit the word at him, and Mitch instantly realized he’d gone too far.

“I’m not trying to accuse you. I just think—”

“Drop it, Mitch. We’ll go to the security firm first thing tomorrow.”

He understood why she was hesitant to admit that somehow she’d been bugged—really, he did. But she had to face the facts. It was the only explanation that made sense, and if they could find the bug before the wedding, maybe Alan wouldn’t ruin everything.

Zoey was being stubborn. But he wasn’t going to let that stop him from doing his job.

They stayed silent as they stood in line and bought tickets, then boarded the boat. The evening was quickly unraveling, and Mitch wasn’t sure if he could salvage it. Why couldn’t Zoey just admit that Alan had probably been tracking them through her?

“We should sit on top,” Mitch said. “I bet the view is great from up there.”

“Sure,” Zoey said. But her voice was flat, her usually bubbly tone gone.

Mitch stifled a sigh. They climbed the stairs and found seats up top. Their shoulders accidentally brushed, and Zoey inched away.

So it was going to be like that now.

Mitch scanned the river bank for Alan. He stood with his hands in his pockets but wasn’t in line to board the boat himself. Maybe he’d decided that whatever they were doing tonight, it wasn’t worth his time.

The boat pulled away from the dock, and Alan remained behind. Zoey let out a sigh.

“Do you really think he’ll show up at our appointments tomorrow?” she asked.

“If we can’t figure out how he’s tracking us, then yes.”

“He didn’t bug anything in my purse. It was with me the entire time.”

“It doesn’t hurt to check.”

Zoey folded her arms, the anger back. “How do you know he didn’t bug you?”

“Um, because I only spent about thirty seconds with him.”

“It only takes one second to place a bug.”

Mitch mentally went over their schedule for the next day. “I’ll see when the private security firm can come to the apartment and check everything.”

“Including you?”

It was unnecessary, but he didn’t want to upset Zoey. “Yes.”

She nodded, her shoulders relaxing. She reached up and twisted a lock of teal hair around her finger, then unwound it. “I don’t know if we can keep this a secret from Brooke and Luke for much longer.”

“If we find out how Alan’s tracking us, they never have to know.”

“At this point, I don’t think it matters. He has too much information. Even if we figure it out, he could still show up for the wedding. We should tell Brooke and Luke that he’s here, but we have it under control. That way they’re prepared for the possibility.”

“We should wait until after the security firm comes to the apartment. Then at least we can give them a reason.”

“You mean I can tell my best friend it’s my fault he’s been tracking us?” Zoey quickly shook her head back and forth. “No. I have to tell her now. I
know
Alan didn’t place a bug on me. It can’t be me, Mitch. I am not going to be the person who ruins this wedding. He’s just really resourceful, or really lucky, or maybe both. I don’t think we’re going to figure out how he’s tracking us, which means we’re going to have to go through with the plan, which means there’s a chance the plan might not work, and Alan might show up. Brooke needs to know.”

“Okay.” Mitch grabbed Zoey’s hands, forcing her to look at him. Her chest heaved, and tears glistened in her eyes. He wrapped an arm around her, and she fell against him, her shoulder shaking. “We’re going to figure this out,” he said, his hand rubbing slow circles on her back.

“It’s not my fault.”

“I know.”

“It
can’t
be my fault.”

“We’ll figure this out.”

She nodded, nestling up against his side. His entire body was alive with awareness, and she let out a soft sigh, her breath tickling his neck.

Somehow, Mitch’s fingers were tangled in her hair, and her lips were drawing closer to his.

Zoey jerked back, sliding to the far side of her seat. “Stop.”

“Why?”

“We can’t . . .” She shook her head. “We’re making sure Alan doesn’t get anywhere near that wedding. That’s all this is.”

Panic rose within him, and he fought to keep his voice calm. “You’re lying.”

“We were caught up in the moment.”

“And what about at the engagement party? Were we caught up in the moment then, too? How many moments are we going to get caught up in before you admit that this is real?”

“I can’t deal with this” —she motioned back and forth between them— “right now. What we need to focus on is making sure that Brooke and Luke’s wedding day remains uninterrupted by paparazzi. Everything else is going to have to wait.”

“Don’t run away from me again.”

“It was just a kiss, Mitch. Don’t turn it into a bigger deal than it was.”

Anger roiled inside him, and he took a deep cleansing breath. Yelling wouldn’t help anything. “I won’t, if you stop minimizing it.” She had said she ran away because she was scared. He wouldn’t let her bolt again.

“Maybe there is a certain attraction between us. But we’re too different for it to ever work. We drive each other crazy, Mitch.”

“So you aren’t willing to even take the risk?”

“I’m not willing to discuss this further tonight.”

“What are you so afraid of?”

“Right now, the only thing I’m afraid of is seeing my best friend crying and miserable on her wedding day because it’s being ruined by a selfish, opportunistic reporter.”

He saw the panic in her eye as she ran a trembling hand through her ponytail. He wanted to grab her arms and insist they talk. But that wasn’t what Zoey needed, and if he pushed, he might scare her even more.

“The security firm will help us figure things out,” Mitch said. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

“I’m not going to talk about that kiss.”

“Okay.”

“I just want to focus on getting through the wedding.”

“Okay.”

“Things are really chaotic and crazy, and I think it’s best if we just do our jobs right now.”

“Okay.”

Her eyes searched his, as though waiting for him to protest. And he would, but not tonight. Zoey needed him to give in.

Slowly, she nodded. The boat floated down the river, passing Notre Dame. He could just make out the patch of sidewalk where they’d played in the rain.

Mitch had always considered Zoey a forthright person. But maybe, in this one instance, the words coming out of her mouth weren’t saying what she really felt.